What he's asking is, will you keep all the sadness out?

The end, forever, period.

When you clawed up my crown,
jumbled in the bones of former kings,
I promised
we would sleep in a pile, every night
warm snuffles and sighs
buried in nuzzled fur.

I pull my ears up. We dance,
you scrape your heart
around my name. White seeds like blossoms

furrow, tiny hooks,

others soar tangled cedar.

All forts seem like a good idea.
We want wooden flutes, rough drums,

sand scruffed under nails and skin,
the better to feel our rub.

When icy light found me
grey beneath broken twigs,
your clumsy grief caved
and howled holes in the trees.
We slept in the forest that night.

I had to go. After all, I only bite
and teeth fall out and grow again.

You said you'd eat me up,
you love me so. I eat bread and milk

with clear paws. It's ages til the sun burns dark.

How do I make everyone OK?

Huts fall down. We build again.

Ghazal for Lars

A thaw came early - yet still Wisconsin winter.
Re-frozen slush hedges garage house, second winter.

So much wool. So many sweaters, blue and green,
you could cocoon forever in thick winter.

Some people don't like to be hugged. Shield your skin
from burn of hands with down-stuffed coats of winter.

None of this is easy. Who knew you could be so lonely
you forget what day it is. And hearts don't winter well.

At least artificial flowers never die. This far north,
you have to choose, to bury deep or melt in winter.